


Wrecking Ball

by Sineala



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Avengers Vol. 3 (1998), Crack, Fluff, Humor, Identity Porn, M/M, Mistakes, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22288570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/pseuds/Sineala
Summary: Steve is in a wonderful relationship with his teammate Iron Man, adored by the public. Steve and Avengers benefactor Tony Stark are just very good friends. It should be easy to remember that.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 80
Kudos: 863
Collections: You Gave Me A Stocking 2019





	Wrecking Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzy/gifts).



> Hi Mizzy!
> 
> This is one of those identity porn ideas that has been kicking around my brain for a while and in my head there's a much longer and angstier version somewhere but I could never figure out how to make it work, so this is the short, cracky, fluffy version. Hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to hopelesse and Blossom for beta!

Sure, there had been a few naysayers and homophobes, but on the whole, the world seemed to have taken the news of their relationship remarkably well. It had probably helped that everyone was so glad to see superheroes back on Earth again, after Onslaught, after the year on Counter-Earth that even Steve's memories of were already almost all gone. It had helped, too, that when Steve and Tony had finally decided to come out, they'd done it as a coordinated PR campaign. Captain America and Iron Man, longtime Avengers leaders, finally together romantically as well as professionally. They'd made it sound like a natural development -- which, honestly, it had felt like, the night Tony had kissed him for the first time -- and that was how they'd sold it to the press, too.

And the thing was, it was working. It was really, _really_ working.

Steve was no stranger to the media, over the years, but he was surprised at how much everyone seemed to be cheering them on. Every time Tony picked him up and flew with him in battle, there were a dozen blurry shots in the papers the next day, headlined with captions like LOVE IS STILL IN THE AIR FOR OUR SUPERHERO DUO. Steve had cut out and saved one of the pictures, a post-battle shot where they were walking toward the Quinjet, Tony's gauntleted arm wrapped possessively around his waist. He stuck it in his wallet.

Once, the paparazzi had caught them out to lunch at a cafe, and there were more pictures of Steve grinning like a sentimental idiot at Tony, sandwich already forgotten, while Tony sipped his milkshake through the straw wedged in the mouth-slit of his mask.

"Aww," Jan had said, after those had been published, on one of her visits to the mansion. "You two are the absolute sweetest."

"Nah, Steve's the sweetest," Tony said, faceplate pushed up now, in the privacy of their own home, smiling fondly at Steve. "I'm just along for the ride, really."

" _I'm_ impressed that that wasn't a sex joke," Clint, who had not even been in this conversation, called from the couch.

Tony smirked. "Well, it is _now_."

Steve could feel his face heat up. "Tony," he said, but try as he might, he couldn't even sound disapproving.

He just-- he loved him so much. It was as simple as that.

* * *

The worst parts of Steve's job -- well, other than the supervillains, that was a given -- were the parts where he didn't get to be with Tony. Oh, Tony had a lot of responsibilities at Stark Solutions and Steve didn't begrudge him any of them; he knew what it was like to work two jobs, even if he'd never been a CEO. But somehow the worst parts, the very worst indignities, were when Steve had to see Tony and he didn't even get to get close to him.

The Maria Stark Foundation gala, as always, was a lavish affair; the huge room was filled with millionaires in tuxedos, equally-rich women in evening gowns poised on their arms. Tony of course had looked gorgeous in his own tux as he'd stood on the stage and made his own opening speech about how he was grateful for their presence, for their charity.

The Avengers were there too -- well, not all of them, obviously, just enough to be representative, and obviously not including Iron Man -- because, after all, it was the Foundation that paid their salaries. So Steve, along with the rest of the team, was dragged on stage for a few seconds, the same as every year.

"And, of course," Tony told the crowd, "in addition to the Foundation's philanthropic work, they help make the Avengers possible."

The crowd clapped politely while Tony held out a hand to the assembled Avengers. The lights glinted off the mail of Steve's armored shirt.

Tony didn't single any of them out, but he held Steve's gaze for just a little longer when he smiled, and Steve smiled back.

* * *

After that, of course, was the dinner-and-philanthropy portion of the evening, as Tony went from table to table and made nice with the glitterati. The Avengers, of course, were expected to do the same, on a smaller scale. Steve found himself seated next to an older couple who had an interest in art, so they spent a companionable ten minutes discussing Mark Rothko before the woman leaned in avidly and put a hand on his arm.

"And what's it really like," she asked, "dating Iron Man?"

"Well, ma'am," Steve said, and he could just feel himself smiling again, thinking about Tony, "it's amazing. Being with him is like nothing else I've ever known. I can't-- I can't really imagine my life without him in it."

He and Tony hadn't had that kind of Serious Talk yet, but he was pretty sure it was coming. And he was pretty sure Tony was just as besotted, so he liked to think he knew what Tony was going to say.

"Oh, that's lovely," she cooed. "Reminds you of the two of us when we were young, doesn't it, dear?" She nudged her husband.

The man harrumphed. "It doesn't bother you, a guy in a metal suit?"

Steve grinned. "Not so far. I mean, the suit comes off when we're at home. It's just a regular secret identity."

After that, the food arrived, and Steve was touched to see that Tony must have spoken to someone with the catering, because they'd given him the chicken _and_ the fish, with portions sized for his metabolism. That was just how Tony was. He never forgot the little things.

* * *

A good few hours later, the gala was winding down; Steve's dining companions had left for the evening a while ago, as had the rest of the table he'd been seated at. The string quartet in the corner was still playing, but no one was dancing anymore. There were a few clusters of people here and there, still chatting. Tony was gladhanding the last of the millionaires, and a Daily Bugle photographer, looking dead on his feet, was still taking pictures.

Even the rest of the Avengers had gone home already. But Steve-- well, Steve couldn't ever resist a chance to hang out with Tony, could he?

And soon enough, he got his wish.

Undoing his tie as he walked, Tony maneuvered around the empty tables and collapsed into the chair next to Steve, the one the art-loving woman had occupied, and he scooted himself a little closer. "Long night, huh, Winghead?" he murmured, with a smile.

"No kidding," Steve said. 

He was an Avenger, sure, but -- other than Tony and Jan -- most of the Avengers weren't born to this lifestyle, and he could tell that, under all the stage makeup, Tony was tired. Tony probably wanted to get home, wipe his face off, and... well, okay, Tony probably wanted to spend six more hours in the basement working on his armor but Steve was hoping he could at least talk him into some cuddling first.

Tony smiled, and it was his real smile, not the one he'd been giving to the cameras and the strangers all night. "It was nice to at least look around and see you, though, I'll say that," he murmured. "I missed you. You were right here and I missed you so much all night."

"Same goes for me," Steve said, with a smile.

And then, because he could, he leaned in and put an arm around Tony, drawing him close, and kissing him lightly on the mouth. For a few blissful seconds, there was nothing in the world but Tony, leaning right back into him. And Tony--

Tony--

Tony stiffened up and drew away, as if Steve had done something terrible.

"Cap," he said, his face a rictus of pained horror. "We're, uh. We're not together, remember?"

Steve squinted at him, confused. "What?"

"You're dating _Iron Man_ ," Tony said, wide-eyed. "You're not-- you're not dating Tony Stark." He looked like he wanted to laugh, or cry, or maybe have a heart attack.

And then he jerked his chin across the table, where the Daily Bugle photographer was standing there, camera in his hands, looking like he couldn't believe what he'd seen.

"Oh, _hell_ ," Steve said.

"Oh my God," the photographer breathed. "Captain America is _cheating on Iron Man_."

"Um," Steve said.

Tony covered his face with his hands ever so briefly, then held out a palm in the direction of the photographer, trying to ward him away, even though it was too late. "No comment."

* * *

When they got home, Tony promptly disappeared into his workshop for the rest of the night; Steve figured he'd earned that one fair and square, but then the next morning Tony smiled at him and slid into the chair next to him at the breakfast table and took his hand like everything was forgiven.

"I'm so sorry," Steve said, because he figured that was a good start.

"Okay," Tony said. "So, the way I see it, I've pretty much got to dispense with the secret identity at this point, don't I?" He said it so casually, as if it weren't one of the most important things about him. He'd kept it for a damn decade until Steve had ruined it all with a kiss.

"Tony, I can't possibly ask you to--"

"I'm offering," Tony said, with a still-weary smile, "because I love you to pieces even if you did kind of fuck this one up, sweetheart. Also, it's a lot better than the other option."

Steve raised a wary eyebrow. "What's the other option?"

Tony put the morning's Daily Bugle on the table between them. The headline read CAPTAIN AMERICA... OR CAPTAIN CHEATER? and was accompanied by a very damning picture of last night's gala.

"Oh." Steve swallowed hard. "Yeah, okay. That, uh. That first one sounds better."

"I thought so," Tony said, and he squeezed his hand. "But you owe me a date, Winghead. A real date, now, where I can actually eat an entire meal."

"I am sorry, you know."

"I know." Tony shrugged. "No big deal. It was a mistake, Not the worst way anyone's ever found out who I am. At least this time I had all my clothes on, right?" he murmured, and he raised his eyebrows.

Steve grinned back. "I have to say I was pretty fond of the, ahem, extenuating circumstances," he said, and this time he got to see Tony blush.

"Hush, you," Tony said, still grinning. "And come help me draft all my damn press releases after breakfast."

Steve smiled at him. "Can do, Shellhead." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, I'm going to get to call you Shellhead _all the time_."

Tony laughed; his eyes were bright. "Oh, you're a dangerous one. I'm going to have to hang onto you."

They were still holding hands, and Steve squeezed Tony's hand right back. "You better."


End file.
